


In My Own Time

by Freckleforce01



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Good Mark Jefferson, No Rewind Powers, Rachel Lives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2019-07-24 23:25:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16185389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freckleforce01/pseuds/Freckleforce01
Summary: Max Caulfield has moved back to Arcadia Bay to attend Blackwell Academy for her senior year, but nothing could have prepared her for what she returned to. Chloe Price has been missing for almost six months and it's up to Max to find her best friend. But she can't do it without the help of Rachel Amber. Chloe's girlfriend. Well, Ex-girlfriend.





	1. Chapter 1

The dorms of Blackwell Academy were buzzing with activity. Move in day. Parents, students and RA’s alike were moving up and down the halls with carts full. Everyone getting ready for the beginning of the semester. Maxine Caulfield AKA Max had just finished hauling in the last box from her dad’s car. “I swear to God kid, this thing must weigh more than me.” Ryan Caulfield grumbled as he struggled to fit the mini fridge through the door.

“I wasn’t the genius who picked out the biggest one they had Pops.” Max laughed as she closed the door behind him.

“We just want you to always have access when you need it.” Vanessa spoke without looking as she set up her daughter’s bed.

“Mom seriously, you don’t have to set my room up. I’ve got almost a month before classes actually start.” Vanessa paid her no mind and continued tugging the cases over the pillows, “This is just the beginning Maxine, first it’s moving into Blackwell then college. God it seems like just yesterday we were dressing you up as an ice cream sandwich for Halloween.”

Max smile fell slightly. _I remember that night, Halloween with Chloe. The best friend you haven’t spoken to in five years. She probably won’t even want to talk to me, not that I’d blame her._ Vanessa could sense the change of mood in her daughter, moving forward to rest her hands on Max shoulders. “Have you thought about contacting Chloe while you’re here?” Vanessa asked gently.

Max let out a sigh, “Yeah, I’m still just trying to figure out what I’m gonna say to her.” “I’m sure when you reconnect you’re not going to have to say much,” Vanessa reassures her, placing a kiss on the side of her head, “You two could never stay mad at each other for long.” That was before I abandoned Chloe at her father’s funeral.

“Maybe,” Max mumbles.

 

* * *

 

The move in day craziness had finally come to an end with most students were either being out at dinner with families or hanging out in the common areas. Max was as always, sitting alone in her room listening to music, computer in her lap and browsing Buzzfeed and Pinterest for decoration ideas. The purple phone vibrated on her night stand and Max flipped it open to read the text from Kristen and smiled.

Kristen: Already missing you!

Attached was a photo of Kristen and Fernando at the Unicorn Bar in Seattle eating deep fried Snickers bars. Fernando was holding his plate above his head like it was a gift from god. She already missed those two knuckle heads who were her only companions in the five long years she spent in Seattle. The high school she went to had strong cliques that Max didn’t seem to belong to, she hoped Blackwell wouldn’t be like that. Don’t get her wrong it was a perfectly fine school; Max just isn’t the type of girl to make herself stand out in social groups. She’s never been one to make the first move, but was determined to make a change. If she was ever to succeed in the dog eat dog world of Photography and Art she would need to put herself out there. The thought alone was enough to make butterflies in her stomach. But Max already felt off to a good start, it didn’t hurt that one of the best photographers in the world was going to be teaching. _Mark Jefferson is one of the reasons I wanted to come to Blackwell, I’ve always loved his deco and goth style and he’s so versatile with all of his incredible print and advertising work._

 

The soft guitar strings of Jose Gonzalez continued to play in the background as Max started to tape her many photos to the wall to display, a timid knock on the door broke Max out of her daze. On the other side of the door was a girl her age with dirty blonde hair in a tight bun, her clothes were modest, she wore a gold cross necklace along with a very doe-eyed expression.

_Oh boy._

“Sorry,” The girl said, looking embarrassed. “I hope I’m not interrupting you. I just wanted to introduce myself, I’m Kate Marsh. I live right across the hall, you must be Maxine?”

Ugh, that name. “Actually everyone just calls me Max.”

Kate shifted slightly, “So a couple of girls and I are going to the café downtown, and we wondered if you wanted to come?”

Automatically Max wanted to come up with an excuse to bail but stopped herself. This is where your life begins Max, take chances and meet new people. Even if you hate every second of it. It wasn’t that she thought Kate wasn’t nice or anything, her anxiety just soared around anyone she didn’t know. _A new school tends to put you in the situations genius. These people have probably known each other for years; I’m just the newest hipster in town_.

“Um, yeah sure. Just let me get my bag.” Max moved to grab her second hand messenger bag off the desk and turned off the music. “Oh do you play?” Kate waved her hand to the guitar perched against the bed, “Not well,” Max admitted, “I just learned how to play Mary Had a Little Lamb and even that was a challenge.”

Kate giggled, “I play the violin, started when I was eleven. Something about it just takes me to another place when I practice. I’ll try to best to be quiet but I can’t guarantee you won’t hear anything.” “Oh that’s fine, I’d love to hear you play sometime. Maybe we could start a band; I bet the mosh pits would get crazy.” Kate chuckled as they walked down to the middle of the hallway where two girls were waiting by the bathrooms and having an animated conversation.

“It’s gonna be so cool to have Mr. Jefferson as the Judge for the Every Day Hero’s Contest. He only chooses those with real talent. I heard the guy who won last year was sponsored and got into NYU.”

“Stella you can’t be a fangirl around Mr. Jefferson if you want to stand out. You saw how much he hated it when Victoria would fawn all over him last year,” The bigger girl with purple hair spoke in a monotone voice, “Just play it cool and aloof. Always works for me.”

“Already gossiping about Mr. Jefferson? Max this is Alyssa and Stella. Max is new to Blackwell; I thought we could show her around school and grab some coffee at the Lovin’ Cup.”

Alyssa groaned, “Sign me up; I’ve been dying to have one of those lemon bars all summer.”

Max heard a mean laugh behind her, followed by the most stuck up voice on Dogs green earth, “Sure you need any more sweets in you Alyssa? I don’t think the gym uniforms get any bigger.”

_That’s a really low blow_ , Max couldn’t believe someone would say that. A pretty blonde who reeked of privilege sauntered up to them, flanked by two equally snobby and smirking clones. Alyssa’s voice developed an edge, “You’re one to talk about extra baggage Victoria, I’m sure dragging around these two leeches of desperation is exhausting.”

The clones scoffed at the jibe as Victoria responded, “You’re just jealous that we’re the new heads of the Vortex Club and you will never be a member if I can help it.” She cupped her hand over her mouth and whispered as if a secret, “It’s like the bathroom door says, why you playing hard to get when you’re already so hard to want?” The girls cackled before Victoria purposefully walked in between Stella and Kate, pushing them out of her warpath. The clones followed close behind when Victoria suddenly reached up and swiped her hand across the bulletin board as she passed, sending a few black and white flyers to the floor.

Alyssa rolled her eyes with a groan, “School hasn’t even started and Victoria’s already pulling this Regina George crap, acting like she runs Blackwell. I can’t wait to get out of here.”

“Is she always like that?” Max asked. Stella laughed loudly, “Worse, this was actually a good day for her. Since she became the new queen of the Vortex club she makes it her mission to step on everyone at Blackwell.”

“What’s the Vortex club?”

Kate explained, “It used to be this really cool activist club in the eighties that stood up against bullying and was actually a safe haven for the less cool kids. But now it’s more like Nathan Prescott’s personal party club.”

“Kate’s just being nice, it’s actually more like a cult but with popular kids.” Alyssa added.

“Gross.” Max grimaced.

Alyssa gestured to the three of them with her hand, “As you can see we’re not exactly Vortex club material. We don’t conform to the two biggest rules.”

“Which are?”

“Have a rich daddy and be the biggest bitch you can to everyone.” Stella said bluntly. “Language!” Kate scolded, swiping Stella's arm lightly with a smile. The girls made their way to leave when Stella suddenly bent down to grab one of those flyers Victoria ripped down, “These are back. God, how long has it been?” She leaned up to pin the paper back onto the board.

“Rachel must have moved back in today.” Alyssa sighed, “There are hundreds of these in town. I honestly didn’t think she’d come back this year, she took it so hard.”

“Did they ever find her?" Kate asked. Stella shook her head sadly, “I heard her stepdad threatened Justin if he didn’t give him any information about her, but he had no clue. His mom called the school and Wells ended up put him on leave for the rest of the semester.” They all stared at the flyer for a few more moments in uncomfortable silence, “We should get going, the bus will be here in ten minutes….are you coming Max?”

The petite hipster gave no indication she heard Kate and the blonde looked at her friends for answers. Stella shrugged and Alyssa shook her head mouthing I don’t know.

Kate moved behind, reached out to touch Max’s shoulder hesitantly but the girl still paid her no mind, “Max, what’s wrong?"

Silence.

“Max?”

“I know her.”

“Um,” Kate was at a loss, “Yeah I’ve seen her flyer’s all over town too.”

“No!” Max gasped, “You don’t understand. I KNOW HER.”

_Chloe._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max heads to the Two Whales to speak with Joyce.

Max scanned the flyer over and over again, as if she didn’t believe her eyes. It just wasn’t making sense, this type of thing didn’t happen to people she knew, people she loved. When she walked by the missing persons board at the grocery store she tried not to look, it had always filled her with sadness at the thought of those faces never seeing their families again. Not in her wildest imagination did she ever expect to see her best friends face in line with all the others. Max inspected every inch of the black and white picture, she had recognized Chloe’s devilish smile instantly in the dorms. Those deep blue eyes that had haunted her for the past five years, one that she would never forget.

NAME: Chloe Elizabeth Price

DOB: March 11, 1994.

Last seen: April 22nd, 2013.

Height: 5’9 Weight: 125 pounds

Hair: Naturally Blonde but dyed blue.

Eyes: Blue

Tattoo sleeve on right arm of flowers, butterflies, and skull.

She suddenly got up from her bed, opening her laptop on the desk and started searching for any information on her best friend’s disappearance. Her throat felt as if she swallowed glass, trying to stop the tears that refused to be held back.

“What the FUCK?” Max spat.

One lousy fucking article in the Arcadia Bay Beacon about the disappearance of so called ‘troubled teen’ Chloe Price and not a word mentioned in the weeks afterwards. And a statement from Well’s saying counselors are available to talk to students. She searched the name Chloe Price on Facebook, Myspace and YouTube but came up with nothing. Pushing away from her desk with a frustrated sigh she began tapping her fingers on the edge. Her eyes traveled over the room before going to a table under her Hi Fi, she slowly pulled open the drawer that held dozens of pictures, old and new. She pulled out the most important one of all, of her and Chloe playing pirates back in the day. The days where ‘who got to be the red ranger’ were the most important decision to be made. When they used to throw the Black Walnuts in the road to see them explode from the cars that ran over them. Who could have imagined a few weeks after this picture was taken that Captain Bluebeard and Long Max Silver would be separated? Max felt as if her heart was in her stomach it was so heavy.

Someone has to know something about where she went. Chloe’s friends, teachers, her mom. Someone like Chloe doesn’t just fall off the map, she’s never been that subtle. _I guess my first place to start looking is at the Two Whales and talk to Joyce, if she even works there anymore._

Max collected her bag, camera and bus pass to leave. Opening the door she paused and glanced back at her messy desk. She quickly picked up the photo, folded the in half and tucking it in her pocket, “I’ll find you Chloe, I promise.”

 

* * *

 

 

Joyce Madsen looked for all intents and purposes normal. Her blonde hair was in its usual clip on her head, her blouse didn’t have a speck of food on it as of yet, not a hair out of place and her makeup was on point. But to those who knew Joyce, the regulars, her coworkers, but most of all David knew that behind that mask was a heartbroken woman. She was just trying to live day by day. The disappearance of her only daughter nearly broke her, nearly six months and not a trace of where Chloe had gone, needless to say Joyce was frustrated. But what infuriated her most was the reaction of the town and police department to Chloe’s disappearance.

These people who for years had seen her daughter play hop scotch on the sidewalk in front of the Two Whales with her best friend. Who at eleven years old opened a lemonade stand fundraiser for the victims of Hurricane Katrina because she couldn’t imagine losing her loved ones like they had. These people who showed her such sympathy and kindness after William’s tragic accident. These were now the same people who spread cruel lies about her daughter moving to Los Angeles with her pimp and becoming a porn star.

Now Joyce was fully aware her Chloe was no angel. Far from it, Chloe was a rule breaker from the minute she was born, a natural rebel. First it was staying out later and later, cutting school, the smoking and drinking. Then the bad boy phase which didn’t last long at all, not that she was surprised, she’d have to be blind to not see her daughter was gay. The way Chloe and Max used to hold on to each other all those years ago was beyond friendship. It all came to a head in her sophomore year at Blackwell; she was expelled in the blink of an eye, trying to cover for of all people the DA’s daughter. To a random person Chloe looked like nothing but trouble, with an attitude that fully matched her punk attire and demeanor. But Joyce knew her daughter possessed tenderness in her, such an ability to love with all her heart even when it wasn’t always the best for her.

When Chloe didn’t come home after the incident with David, Joyce didn’t panic at first. She figured Chloe needed some space before returning and just crashed with Rachel for a few nights. But a few nights turned into a week which turned to two. She finally managed to get a hold of Rachel and ask when her daughter would be back home, but when the girl replied that she hadn’t seen Chloe in two weeks also Joyce’s heart sank like it has only once before.

She went into a full blown panic, calling David and filing the missing persons with the police department immediately. But by then it was too late, Officer Berry informed her that with missing person cases over two weeks old her trail had likely gone cold. And even if they managed to find her alive and well, she was eighteen of age and couldn’t be forced to come home. This of course didn’t stop David from searching high and low for her, interviewing her friends and even getting a suspension from that useless principal for questioning a student on school grounds, even though he was off the clock!

David was not unlike her Chloe, he too had seen his fair share of heartache and loss. Chloe didn’t know all the side effects from war he suffered with. How his night terrors would cause him to wake up drenched and thinking he was in the middle of a gunfight. How he saw his best friend Phil Becker at the gas station the other day while he was pumping gas. His uniform seeping with blood asking why David couldn’t save him in time. How hard he cried on her shoulder as he told her later that night. Chloe didn’t know the night David moved into their home he promised Joyce he loved Chloe like his own and that he would protect them both with his life. But also like Chloe, David had an extremely difficult time expressing his feelings in the right way. Often coming across as rude, aggressive and unfair to many but especially to her daughter. His concern for her well being came off as controlling and her lack of trust for him skyrocketed after-

The bell signaled the entrance of another customer, Joyce glanced over to see a small girl with shoulder length brown hair sit down in the booth second from the end.

Chloe’s booth.

Joyce hated it when people sat there. It reminded her of the countless times she would wait on Chloe and Max coming back from their adventures with outlandish stories. Later it was Chloe and Rachel before they went off to do whatever it was they did, Joyce was never kept in the loop of her daughters activities try as she might. Joyce let out a breath, changed the coffee filter and started another pot before grabbing a menu. The young lady was fiddling with the lens of what looked to be an old Polaroid camera.

Joyce smiled slightly, _haven’t seen one of those in years, William used to take so many pictures. We don’t do that anymore._ She set down a clean white coffee cup in front of the girl, _at least she’s not sitting on Chloe’s side_. “What can I get you darlin’?”

The young girl looked up from her camera and Joyce felt her heart flip in her chest. “I-it’s good to see you Joyce.” Max stammered.

“Max Caulfield? What-what are you-“, She pulled the girl out of the booth, looking her up and down like a mother would her daughter.

“When did you get-“Joyce’s question cut off when she looked into Max’s watery eyes. It was a look that only people who have lost someone dear to them shared, one that didn’t need any words. It was one that understood the grief of what was lost. Joyce pulled Max into her arms and they both broke down, holding on to each other for dear life as the tears fell. Max tightened her grip around the older woman’s waist, getting a whiff of the vanilla musk perfume they had all picked out at the mall years ago for her birthday.

 _Her daughters missing, yet I’m the one crying my eyes out, nice one Caulfield_ , Max kicked herself.

Joyce began to pull herself together, wiping her eyes where the ruined mascara made its way down her face, “Jeb, I’m takin’ my break early okay?” A greasy looking man with tattoo covered neck but a kind face nodded his head from behind the window.

Joyce led Max through the back door where they sat outside near the dumpster, “What brings you back to Arcadia bay?”

Max started to fiddle with the camera strap, “I just back in town yesterday, I’m going to Blackwell this semester.”

“That’s great Max, I’m sure you’ll fit in great there. You were always the artistic type, William planned on giving you his camera one day.”

They both paused for a moment, before Max began, “Joyce what happened?”

Joyce let out a shaky breath before reaching into her pocket taking out a blue cigarette pack, Max’s eyebrows shot up in surprise; Joyce hasn’t smoked since we were twelve. The waitress brought the lighter to her mouth and swore, “Shit hit the fan that’s what happened.”

Joyce took a drag and breathed the smoke out in the opposite direction, “Before she disappeared Chloe had been acting weird for a few days, quieter than she ever had been. She was always coming and going, I never knew where but something seemed off with her that morning in particular. Later that day everything just fell apart.”

* * *

Flashback

It was Thursday night and Joyce was in the kitchen making dinner. The pot roast was in the crockpot and nearly done, the basketball game was playing in the living room where her husband sat on the couch drinking beer. “Smells good honey.” David called to her from the couch, “Thank you!” Joyce replied with a smile.

The front door opened abruptly, the sound of keys dropped in the glass holder, “Perfect timing Chloe dinner's just about done, come help me set the table.”

“I’m not hungry.” Chloe mumbled, checking her phone before snapping it shut with a curse.

“Hey!” David got up from the couch and stomped over, “Your mother worked all day to make this meal for us. You haven’t been around for days. I think you owe it to her to have a nice pot roast dinner with your family.”

Evidently today was not the day to push as Chloe immediately snapped back, “She doesn’t even like pot roast you dick! She just makes it because you do!”

David stepped in front of the stairway blocking her path and makes a point of sniffing the air, “Have you been drinking? It’s only six o’clock for Christ sake, I thought you’d grown up from this bullshit!”

Chloe rolled her eyes, “Yeah, yeah, I like to get drunk and do drugs, you seem to like the look of a porn stache, we all have our issues so get the fuck out of my face,” Chloe once again tried to push past him but he stepped in her way again, “I'm sick of your disrespect! You need to shape up, get your act together and put someone else first for a damn change. Am I making myself clear?”

Chloe smiled before sarcastically standing at attention, giving the lesbian salute, “If you think for one second I’m gonna let a rent a cop prick like you boss me around then your even dumber than you look.”

David’s face was quickly turning red with his fists clenching, Chloe’s smirk fell when her mother spoke from the doorway, “Chloe calm down. That’s completely uncalled for. David is right you can’t keep doing this, it’s gonna lead you nowhere good. How are we supposed to trust you when you pull this kind of act?”

Chloe’s head whipped around to Joyce and she started to laugh, “My god that is so rich, you talk about how we need to be a family when Sargent Pepper here has been surveilancing us for God knows how long! He’s even got a file on me!” David reeled back in shock.

“David what is she talking about?” Joyce demanded.

He glances down to the ground guiltily but Chloe continued, “Yeah mom, he put a tracker on my car and has cameras all over the house. I wouldn’t be surprised if you found one in your bedroom, pig’s probably sharing it with his-“ David’s hand came up in a flash across Chloe’s face sending her back into the coat rack. Joyce let out a gasp and even David’s eyes widened in horror.

“I-you-“, Trying to make out the words but unable to. He had no idea how his family would suffer the consequences of this action.

Chloe’s eyes immediately looked to her mother, her hand pressed tightly against her stinging cheek. A moment passed, then two. Chloe waited for her mother to say something.

Anything.

But she didn’t.

As if she had been the one slapped into shock, Joyce quietly walked back into the kitchen. The water to the sink turned on and Chloe felt her anger morph into yet another betrayal. _Add it to the fucking list_ , Chloe thought bitterly. She refused to let anyone see her cry, not anymore.

_Fuck this place._

“Chloe I’m sorry, I didn’t-“, David attempts to speak but Chloe pushes past roughly, sending him to the ground as she ran upstairs. Her bedroom door slams so hard the picture frame near the kitchen falls and shatters. David picks himself off the steps in shock, his eyes dart upstairs and back to the kitchen, wondering where to even start. “God what have I done?” Rubbing his calloused hands over his face, he enters the kitchen and cautiously walks up behind his wife, “Joyce I’m-“

“You need to leave.” Joyce talks over him, her hands never leaving the soapy water. His mouth drops open and he tries to argue, “Can’t we just talk about this?”

“Not tonight David. I need you out of my house right now.”

END FLASHBACK

* * *

 

Max’s hands covered her mouth, leaning with her elbows bent on the table. Her eyes are filled with tears, but none close to the amount that filled Joyce Madsen’s eyes right about now. _Jesus what a mess,_ Max thought miserably.

Joyce shook her head in shame, “I’m not gonna lie to you Max, I froze. I didn’t know how to deal with it all right away.” She grabs a napkin from her pocket, dabbing under her eyes at the running mascara.

“David booked a hotel that night but when I went up to talk to her she was gone. Her clothes were still there so I thought she just went to stay with Rachel for the night. After a few day’s I noticed a lot of her things were missing. Then I finally got a hold of Rachel, but all I could get out of her was they’d fought and she hadn’t seen Chloe for over two weeks either.”

 _That name again, I’m going to have to find this Rachel,_ Max made a mental note in her head.

Joyce continued, “David has used all his resources, called in every favor he’s been owed trying to find her. Contacted every county jail in the next three states. We even came up with a small reward if anyone could give us some information on where she could be,” Joyce looked down at her cigarette with a sigh and stubbed it out in a plastic cup, “The last location her phone tracked to was a town called Big Timber in Montana, but after that nothing. Not a trace since.”

 _I have to ask_ , Max hesitated, “Do you think something happened to her?”

Joyce shook her head no, clearing her throat and trying to pull herself together, “No, if there’s one thing I know in this world it’s that Chloe’s a survivor. I know something was bothering her before she left, she’d been really quiet and withdrawn lately. But you know Chloe better than anyone, she bottles it all up till she explodes, and I think after everything she just couldn’t take it anymore.”

“To be honest Joyce I couldn’t blame her,” Max admitted.

“Max, after I kicked David out I told him he wasn’t stepping a foot in my house or near my daughter again until he got help. Within a couple days he started seeing a psychiatrist and was getting treatment. I’m not defending what he did, David of all people knows it’s inexcusable. But he’s made the steps to change and he has.”

 _I need to find out why she was so upset before the shit storm with her stepdad_. Max knew she would be asking a lot, but this was Chloe, “Would you mind if I took a look in Chloe’s room? Maybe there’s something I could find that could give us some answers.”

“If you think you could find some answers in that haystack then by all means, I’ll make sure to text David to let him know you’re coming.” The back door swung open, an older lady with a kind but tired face spoke in a southern accent, “Sorry to interrupt you Joyce but a bus full of tourists just pulled in.”

Joyce nodded, “Alright Melissa I’ll be right in.”

She grabbed her rolled up apron from a nearby chair, wrapping the strings around her waist, “Let me know if you find anything worth looking into,” she pulled Max into another hug and gently spoke, “It’s good to have you home.”

The waitress turned to go inside and finish her shift, “Oh wait Joyce just one more thing,” Max called back to her and Joyce raised her eyebrows in question, “I keep on hearing about this Rachel Amber? Who is she? I take it she and Chloe were best friends?”

Joyce’s eyes widened slightly, “Honey I thought you knew, Rachel wasn’t just Chloe’s friend. They’ve been dating for three years, Rachel’s her girlfriend.”

_Oh._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So i got a LIS tattoo not too long ago and i'm just waiting for the day someone recognizes it, because i know i'll have a friend for life.


	3. Chapter 3

The bus brakes let out a harsh squeal as it approached the stop on the corner of Monroe and Cedar avenue, Max murmured a ‘thank you’ to the driver as she got off and started walking. Not much had changed she observed, Mr. Olesik’s mailbox was still in the shape of a fire truck. But the Coon’s old house looked like it had a new owner with a fresh coat of paint over the old faded red and the garage door looked new.

Mrs. Michaels on the corner still had her gnomes in the garden, Max remembers when Chloe got in trouble for drawing bra’s on two of them one summer. William made Chloe help the elderly widow with her garden for an entire week as punishment. Chloe vehemently hated it at first but didn’t mind much after the woman taught her the different meanings of the flowers she planted. How the large Iris plant was from her sister Martha that passed away from cancer, and before selling the house they uprooted her gorgeous garden and divided it among her loved ones. Or that the collection of gnomes actually belonged to her late husband’s and she just didn’t have the heart to get rid of them.

Unbeknownst to Max or even Joyce, Chloe tried to be helpful to the elderly woman after that week. Making a point to ensure that when it rained, Mrs. Michael’s newspaper was safely inside the mailbox instead of on the ground where the creepy paper guy always left it because he didn’t like her. In return Mrs. Michael’s always gave Chloe a smile and ‘hello’, even when the punk’s appearance became more wild and developing a reputation.

In no time Max stood in front of 44 Cedar Avenue which looked like it had seen better days, still painted only half blue, the driveway had a large pothole in the front and the grass desperately needed to be trimmed. _These type of things fall by the wayside when your daughter vanishes._ Max wiped her sweaty palms on her pants before opening the door, Joyce kindly provided her a key before going back to madness of big foot season. The nostalgia was nearly overwhelming to the senses as she took in what used to be her second home. Even smelling the same as it did when they were growing up, an odd but comforting mixture of bacon, fabric softener and cinnamon.

An old collage of photos lined the walls by the kitchen. This feels like the ultimate rewind, like it was just yesterday when William took these pictures. She laughed at the photo of a gap toothed and smiling Chloe at about eleven years old, the skater has just fractured her wrist but held it up to the camera proudly. Max remembers decorating the purple cast with drawings and treasure maps. _Now this is the Chloe I remember, always smiling and laughing. I guess not so much anymore._

Sitting on the breakfast counter was the large and ancient glass jar labeled Paris that was completely empty, “Looks like the journey to Paris hit a roadblock.” Max concluded sadly.

The jar was nearly filled to the brim the last time she saw it, well it actually was full until she and Chloe stole some quarters to pig out on Cheetos and hotdogs from the gas station. For the most part the living room almost felt like a time capsule. The Max and Chloe wine tasting stain still sat by the window, the beat to hell couch was moved against the other wall. The only noticeable difference being the pictures in the room. A photo of David and Joyce’s wedding day hung above a few shots of David in uniform from what must have been the war. But not much else.

“Holy crap.” Max laughed and picked up the object from the coffee table to inspect. It was a blue wide brimmed mug with an anchor on the front. William found it at a garage sale and fell in love with it, even though it was chipped and old.

_What’s funny is William didn’t even drink coffee. He used to hide his M and M’s in here so Chloe and I wouldn’t find them_.

Max gave the room another look over before letting out a breath, _I’m stalling…time to see what I can find in Chloe’s room._

Walking upstairs Max’s hand hesitated before she twisted the sticker covered doorknob and stepped inside. The bedroom simply looked like a bomb had gone off, clothes were strewn about the floor, empty beer bottles lined the windows and the overwhelming stale smell of smoke both cigarette and pot lingered in the air. She couldn’t tell if the room normally looked this messy or if it had been searched. She had a feeling it was a mixture of both and searched by two people, one was messy about it while the other put things back.

“Wowzers.” Max let out, moving to sit on the still unmade bed and take it all in.

Gone were the posters of unicorns, periodic tables, or funny magazine clippings that once adorned the walls. Replaced now with posters of bands Max never heard of with lead singers that looked like they were fresh out of prison. Max couldn’t help but blush at the many posters of scantily clad or nude women posing with guns, a large rainbow hand flipping the bird stood proudly on a shelf.

She laughed, “Subtlety was never your strong suit Chloe.” _At least Chloe was out and proud, I don’t think I’d have the balls._

Max’s love life was a tricky situation, she quickly realized after moving to Seattle that she wasn’t like other girls. With little interest in being popular and going to parties, or dating the cutest guy in school. She much preferred to wander around the city and take pictures, which didn’t seem to be appealing to the opposite sex apparently. Didn’t matter much to her though, she knew deep in her heart that when she met the one she’d know.

“It’s too quiet.” Max turned to search around for the old pirate alarm radio Chloe used to have. After a quick look she didn’t see anything but a beat up clock from the dollar store, which for some reason she felt sad at that. Walking over to the ancient sound system she browsed the CD’s, looking for anything she could recognize.

“Don’t know you… sounds like an STD…nope… nada… I think I’ve eaten that before… Aha!” She took one out, inserting the heavily scratched CD in before pressing play, “Jackpot.”

_You didn't know me when you were a kid_

_In trouble at school, alone at lunch again_

_I didn't know you when I broke my knee_

_Spent the summer on crutches and everybody teased_

_Except for this one friend I almost forgot_

Being nosy was one of her favorite things to do so this came naturally to Max. It wasn’t that she wanted to invade people’s space or anything, she just had a burning curiosity. Searching the drawers she found old tickets from concerts around Oregon, some unpaid parking tickets, bus pass stubs and…

“Condoms?” Max spoke aloud.

' _Don’t be a dummy, cover your Willy.’ I’ll make sure to do that, I thought Chloe had a girlfriend? What does she need condoms for?_ She tugged another drawer out and felt her stomach drop slightly at the empty pill bottle that rolled forward. _'Fluoxetine Tablets, USP 20 mg’, should check out what that means._ Max quickly took out her phone and searched the purpose of the pills, reading out loud, “Commonly used for the treatment of major depressive disorder.”

Max could feel her heart sink even lower, bringing the bottle up against her closed mouth, “Shit.”

_And though I once said I was better off just being dead._

_Better off just being dead, without my old friend_

_True, I once said, I was better off just being dead._

Max’s head whipped around, taking two quick steps while reaching out and aggressively turning off the radio. _I can’t imagine what Chloe must have gone through all this time, how hard it must have been for her. She couldn’t count how many time’s she picked up the phone to call Chloe over the years, only to lose her nerve and hang up before the first ring. What do you even say to your best friend you ghosted for five years? Hey have you seen the new Twilight movie? Don’t be stupid Max!_

As she continued to snoop around Max had started to notice a trend, a lack of recent photographs. Most had to be at least five years old if not more. No pictures of Chloe or her girlfriend Rachel. Max was still trying to figure out how to begin that conversation she’d be having soon. _I’m sure ‘Hey Rachel, I’m Max. You don’t know me, but I’m your missing girlfriend’s best friend who took off five years ago and I was wondering what you could tell me about her disappearance.’_

Max was just about done snooping, disappointed at not finding any real clues when she saw something familiar and leant down to run her hand across the two small scorch marks on the wood floor with a sad smile. _From when we were cleaning out Chloe’s room. Barbie went boom_.

While at a lower level something caught her eye from under the bed, what looked like a small lockbox that was hidden by some old shoe boxes. Reaching under to grab it she was surprised to see the small lock was broken, as if someone had smashed it with their foot. The box contained pictures, lots of pictures. Mostly ones from the good old days, one of herself with Chloe and William from a camping trip up north on Chloe’s 13th birthday. Another looked like a Dungeons and Dragons-esque game, a grinning Chloe sat in between a boy and girl with equally big smiles. _I didn’t think she’d be into that type of thing. I should find out who they are, maybe they’d have an idea where she is._

Max frowned, “The hell?”

Three pictures were ripped in half and they were all of Rachel and Chloe together. One of them dancing, Chloe laughing at a wet looking Rachel, and one of them kissing. She looks happy. But why are these all ripped up? Max tucked the picture of the two people she needed to question in her bag, turning back to the box where an old Blackwell Journal sat on the bottom, the ‘W’ crossed out and made into Blackhell.

_Chloe never kept a journal_. Max opened the book before quickly realizing it was more of a diary filled with doodles and sketches. _Chloe was always drawing on something. Like her desk in school, Ms. Polito was cool with it but she had to scrub that sucker clean at the end of the year._ Flipping to no page in particular one thing caught her eye immediately. MAX. She closed it quickly, debating with herself if she should read it or not. She hadn’t found any clues that gave any real leads as to where she went. This journal could reveal something important.

_Dear Max,_

_Dad got me this stationery one day when I complained about wanting to send an email and the internet was down. And tonight I thought: Hey! Maybe it's time to write Max! The funny thing is, I don't really know what to say. Cause we haven't talked in three months. Despite all my calls, and texts, and... Not that I'm upset, or anything. Fuck. There's no way I'm sending this, is there?_

_Chloe, the Unfriended_

“I guess I deserve that.” She admitted, walking over to sit at the desk and clearing a space moving the Oregon ashtray full of cigarette butts atop a broken laptop.

_Maybe one day, when you return home and apologize for having forgotten all about me and we kiss and make up, I'll show this to you and we can read it and laugh….Plus I have a sweet ass black eye for a souvenir…The twisted, shattered, ugly reminder of what used to be my life…I finally got my ass kicked out of Blackwell…Luckily I've still got the junkyard, my home away from home…That's when the truth finally came out. Rachel's mom = not her mom…Before we could find out why, he pulled out a knife and stabbed Rachel._

Almost two hours flew by as Max read page after page full of Chloe’s account of her life during 2010, memorizing every word of the somewhat messy writing. It recounted how Chloe met Rachel, how they became such fast friends and more. Max couldn’t fathom getting into that kind of situation with wild fires, drug dealers and discovering the kind of secrets Chloe and Rachel had. But if Max knew anything about Chloe it was that she’s loyal, if one of her friends needed help she would be there no questions asked.

Only one more entry was left in the journal, the teen paused for a moment thinking to herself, _I can’t believe Chloe’s changed so much, it’s like she’s a completely different person now._ Max flipped to the last page running her hand over the drawing of a camera with her name on it, she took a deep breath before diving in. Finding out that James Amber was the one who hired Damon to kidnap Rachel’s mom and dosing her with drugs against her will. About Chloe’s dealer Frank saving them and finally how Chloe was debating whether or not she should tell Rachel what James had done.

_What would you do, Max? You can't answer, I know. You don't exist. You're a lie I've used to avoid reality. To keep living in the past. And maybe that's okay? But... I don't think I want to live in the past anymore. I want to be in the present. With Rachel. No matter what happens next._

_Goodbye, Max._

_Chloe_

Max didn’t really know what she expected from reading the journal, _Guess I expected so get some clues about what happened, but most of what I found was how much I hurt her. How much she needed me and I wasn’t there. Especially the last letter, her farewell to me. She had signed off as Chloe. Not Chloe the Bounty Hunter, Chloe the Electric Sheep, Chloe the Twisted, Shattered and Ugly, or the Conjurer of Stars. It was just Chloe this time, the real her._ That hurt more than Max ever thought possible.

_I need to find Rachel, she must have an idea why Chloe left or where she's gone. I remember Melissa saying she must have moved into the dorms already. I'll start there._ Tucking the journal into her bag with one of the ripped pictures of the happy looking couple inside, she put the box back in its place under the bed.

_Guess it’s time to meet Rachel Amber.  
_


	4. Chapter 4

A man who looked like a homeless version of Benjamin Franklin spoke in a dramatically heavy British accent, “All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances. And one man in his time plays many parts.”

A manicured hand reached out for the remote on the bedside table and switched off the large flat screen TV. Her room was finally finished, and her weekly routine already started, Rachel Amber sat on the bed in her dimly lit room with the computer on her lap, a look of irritation on her otherwise pretty face.

_Ms. Amber,_

_As I stated before in our correspondence last week there has been no trace of one Miss Chloe Price in any police database or hospital in the past year. I stress once again that I have already done everything in my power to ensure that Miss Price is found as quickly as possible. We have placed a booking arrest alert in the surrounding states, I have worked closely with other investigators in the National Missing and Unidentified Persons System. I will contact you if she is found._

_Regards,_

_Private Investigator Paul Becker_

“Dick.” She hissed, closing her laptop and roughly setting it on the table before grabbing a bottle of water out of the mini fridge. _Excuse me for being a little more than worried. That’s kind of the reaction you should expect from someone whose girlfriend just disappeared off the face of the earth._ She gulped down the water, tossing it in the trash when her phone beeped with a text message.

Rachel’s attempt to not roll her eyes at the message from her father failed miserably, _‘Let me know if you need a ride to the clinic. Your mother and I were wondering if you had any plans this weekend, we could go up to the lake like old times?’_ She gave her father credit for trying but that was about the extent of which he would get. Ever since Chloe revealed his hiring of the local drug kingpin Damon to kidnap her biological mother and break her sobriety, you could say it was a little tense at the Amber household. While it didn’t stop Sera from contacting her anyway after everything had calmed down, it did send the recovering addict into a spiral that she couldn’t pull herself back out of.

She passed away last December.

And that’s when everything went to shit. As luck would have it, when it came to addiction the apple didn’t fall far from the tree and she started using shortly after. Mind you, her relationship with drugs didn’t start with what killed her mother but it ended with her hooked on Heroin. But after Chloe disappeared and Rachel fell face first to rock bottom, her father shipped her off to an expensive treatment center in Malibu for a month to get clean. Unfortunately it did shit for her once she came home, so they decided to try Methadone treatments instead.

The clinic had been her life for the past five months, she’d come in early morning, get her dose and go home or to therapy. It was surprising at first how many people visited the clinic; some of them looked like fully functional members of the community, not the typical druggie persona she expected. She hated the whole process and the side effects still sucked. _It isn’t perfect but the cravings got better and the withdrawal symptoms weren’t so fucking intense. Gladly take anything over round the clock sweating and never ending diarrhea._

She double checked the door was locked before pushing the grey loveseat over with her hip, reaching down to the loose baseboard behind to grab a small bag. She may be enrolled in a 12-step program but that didn’t mean she couldn’t get a little pick me up from Mary Jane every once in a while. _Wonder what the Yale board of directors would think of this?_ She laughed softly, beginning the process of rolling the joint and her mind started to wander. What didn’t Rachel Amber have going for her last year? Most popular girl in school, daughter of the DA. Future model and actress. Loved and respected by all of Arcadia Bay.

Big whoop.

If Yale went by her grades a year ago she’d be accepting into the best acting schools in the country, perfect attendance, 4.0 GPA, nothing but AP classes, nearly every academic achievement you can think of with a 1420 on her SAT. _Chloe took me out of town to celebrate when I got the results_. They drove up to Portland to pig out on some Voodoo Doughnuts before heading to a food truck rodeo/ Fire Walk concert where they hit the jackpot and won backstage passes to meet the band. _One hell of a weekend, the last normal weekend we had before everything went to_ -

A knock on the door startled the blonde, causing her to drop the open bags contents on the ground. “Fuck!” Rachel cursed, “Just a sec!”

She quickly put her half full laundry hamper of top of it before unlocking the door, relaxing slightly that it wasn’t an RA or Wells. The stranger looked nervous for some reason and Rachel was about to say hello when it instantly clicked who it was.

That’s Max.

THE Max.

It’s as if the girl she’d heard so much about had barely changed, different hair and slightly taller but still the same innocent face. Max tugged on her bag stuttering, “Hi um, I know this must seem really strange but I um, I’m-“

“I know who you are.” Rachel interrupted.

Max blinked, “You do?”

 _I’d have to be an idiot not to recognize that face, Chloe must have a hundred pictures of them in her house_. “You’re Max. The best friend who moved north.”

Max looked away, “Um yeah.”

Awkward silence.

Rachel debated a second before finally saying, “Wanna come in?” Max nodded, entering the slightly disorganized space to sit on the oddly placed loveseat.

“So what brings you to Blackwell?” Rachel started idly playing with her wrist.

“I’m actually your neighbor in 219, I moved in the other day.” Max explained.

“Cool, but that’s not really what I meant. What are you doing here?”

Max looked somewhat taken aback as if to say ‘ _straight to the point this one’_ before speaking the obvious, “Well. Chloe.”

_There it was. Every time someone says her name it’s like a fucking stab in the heart. I need to unwind._

Rachel turned on the small fan directed to the open window, “Hope you don’t mind.” Max’s brows scrunched together in confusion before catching on when Rachel moved the hamper. The blonde sat at the computer chair and rifled through her desk for a moment, whipping out the green zippo and lighting the joint. Blowing the smoke into the fan as it immediately blew outside, locking eyes with Max who tried not to wrinkle her nose at the smell.

“What do you want to know?”

Max cleared her throat, “If you knew why she disappeared, had she been acting strange before then or having problems? Did something else happen besides the fight with her parents.”

Rachel’s eyes shot up, “How did you know about that?”

“Joyce told me, I spoke with her earlier today. Apparently Chloe and David got into a fight after she found some of his surveillance cameras, things got ugly and David hit her.” Rachel’s brain malfunctioned for a second. SAY WHAT NOW?

“What do you mean he HIT HER?” Rachel spat, shoving the joint angrily into a can of Sprite. “That fucking low life. Chloe never liked him, and he never gave a reason to.”

Max reached into her bag, pulling out a worn looking black journal with a dancing hot dog on the cover, “I found this in Chloe’s room today.”

“You went in her room?” _Are you fucking kidding me, she’s allowed in but not me?_

“They let you?” David nearly bit her head off the last time they spoke, blaming her for Chloe’s disappearance and even though he didn’t know half the story she couldn’t help but agree at the time. But now after learning that sorry excuse for a man dared to put his hands on her girlfriend? Fuck that. The Madsen’s were just as much to blame for Chloe’s disappearance as she was. As long as Rachel had been a part of Chloe’s life David has always put her down. Judged her on what clothes she wore, what music she listened to, who she hang out with. It was always the negative with him and Joyce did little to defend her. But even Rachel had to give David some credit; he was just as relentless in the search for Chloe as she was. Even getting suspended for trying to ask Justin of all people if he knew where she could have gone.

Max shrugged, “Joyce thought maybe I could find something useful.”

Rachel sat back on the bed and crossed her legs, “And did you?”

“Not really this is from 2010, but it does tell all about how you two met and the shit you went through.”

“Well that’s good I guess, don’t have to fill you in on everything. But yeah it was a crazy time, I wouldn’t have made it without her. Literally.” Rachel rubbed her arm subconsciously, the scar being a constant reminder of the lengths James went to keep her from knowing the truth.

“This is dated back in May 2010 do you know if she had any more?”

Rachel laughed at the cartoon of Well’s screaming, “Oh definitely, Chloe was always drawing or writing something. Plus if she cares about something she never throws it away.” Both girls understood the double meaning of those words, but not in the same way.

“Chloe had mentioned something called American Rust? What’s that?”

Rachel looked up from the book, “It’s this old junkyard out by the railroad, it was our place, her ‘home away from hell’ as she called it. She used to crash there if she didn’t want to go home, kept some things in the shack too. Don’t know what you’re going to find though, I haven’t been back in months.”

Max took this as her cue to leave and promised to keep Rachel informed if she found anything. But before she left she paused at the door and asked, “Did… did Chloe ever talk about me?”

Rachel couldn’t lie. “Yeah, a lot. Said she missed her first mate.”

The hipster’s eyes filled with tears before nodding in thanks and left the room before they could fall. Watching Max’s reaction, Rachel almost felt guilty not telling her the whole story.

Almost.

But did Max really expect to learn all the dirty details of her relationship with Chloe after she ghosted the punk for five years. Where was this concern for her well-being then? After she lost her father and sunk into a pit of depression for over a year before Rachel met her? Now all of a sudden she cares?

_She cares though._

Rachel looked over to one of the many pictures that decorated her wall, many were of old vacations with her family, plays she’d been in and parties she hosted with the Vortex Club. One stood out more than any, the photo booth strip of her and Chloe. Before her mom died, before she got hooked on drugs or involved in the shady side of Arcadia Bay.

Rachel remembered her last encounter with Chloe like it was yesterday.

* * *

 

 

Rachel Amber dutifully sat in the Photography class, the center table all to herself as she drowned out the words of her highly qualified teacher. Eyes locked on the clock with only four minutes to go until the bell rang. She had shit to do with a lot of ass to kiss and sitting in class for an hour was not top priority right now but she had to keep up appearances. Keep up the act that everything was fine. Her phone buzzed in her pocket for probably the hundredth time in an hour, but she refused to answer it. She knew who it was from but didn’t have the energy to deal with that drama right now.

The heavy classroom door suddenly catapulted open as it hit the wall with a loud bang. Both Taylor and Stella shrieked in surprise at the loud noise. A tall punk walked through the classroom with a purpose, her wet boots squeaking on the floor as she made her way to her destination whose mouth was wide open with shock. Chloe Price walked past a VERY confused looking Victoria and came to a stop front of Rachel’s table for a moment, the deep blue eyes that Rachel spent countless hours admiring were burning right through her with an expression the actress couldn’t read.

That was a first.

“Excuse me miss! What do you think you’re doing? You cannot just barge into my classroom-“ Jefferson started to protest but stopped short when Chloe leaned down suddenly with one hand on the table and the other yanked Rachel’s face to hers. Rachel’s head was spinning, her eyes closed but could still hear the intakes of breath from her shocked classmates. Their kisses have always been passionate, toe curling, loving, sometimes even angry and rough. But this was completely different. This felt like a combination of it all times ten. Feeling like it had something else underlying it all. _What does this mean? Has Chloe forgiven me? Were they back together now?_

As Rachel’s hand started to grab at her girlfriend’s wrist and her mouth opened slightly to deepen the kiss even more Chloe broke it off abruptly. The punk leaned back with her mask of indifference still firmly in place before turning on her heel and exiting the class without a word. You could have heard a pin drop, the room was deathly quiet.

“Hot.” Zach breathed from the back corner.

That seemed to snap Jefferson out of his shock a few seconds after the intruder left, moving quickly to follow her into the hallway but found she was gone. “Ms. Amber who was that girl? Is she a student here?”

Victoria snorted, “That piece of trash? As if. Her ass got kicked out of here last year. Well’s is gonna love this.”

Rachel’s head was spinning, her hand reaching up to touch her lips that were starting to bruise. She heard the questions asked of her but ignored them, _what the hell was that? Chloe knew what would happen if she was caught on campus again. Wells threatened to call the police the last time she got caught sneaking out of the girls dorms._ _Step prick lost his shit on her_. But as luck would have it the bell rang and the most interesting Photography 2 class of the last ten years was over. Rachel began to pack up to leave but stopped abruptly, sitting on top of her books was her bracelet.

The bracelet.

The one Sera had given to her in the hospital when she was born. The one she gave to Chloe the night of The Tempest. The very one she also gave to her biggest mistake, Frank who currently was in possession of it. She knew full well the drug dealer would have never given it up willingly.

Rachel buried her hands in her hair, “Fuck Chloe, what have you done?”


	5. Chapter 5

It took about an hour before Max could see the faded sign of American Rust hidden behind the overgrown bushes and trees. To any normal person this place would scream danger and seem like nothing more than a junkyard. Certain breeds of people enjoy these forgotten places tucked away from society that nature has reclaimed. Random items caught her eye as she walked past old diner signs, TV’s, and dented mannequins. She stopped at an old Ford truck with vines all twisted inside and around the stick shift and seats.

Max couldn’t help but find this place endearing, “All this rusted metal makes me feel serene; no wonder Chloe loved it here. Raw and rough.” Purposefully stepping over glass from a few broken bottles and some still intact perched on a table in what looked to be a makeshift shooting range with a dozen or more bullet shells littering the ground. She kneeled to pick one up that was slightly impacted into the dirt and slightly rusted, “These are old.”

Way in the back of the junkyard sat an absolute wreck of a shack covered in graffiti with a rusty piece of sheet metal over the entrance. Max grunted in effort pushing it over, wiping her dirty hands on her pants, “Thank god for Tetanus shots.”

She didn’t know what to expect inside this shack but it sure wasn’t this. An ancient radio sat in the window next to a sign reading La La Land. A dartboard hung on the wall with a tally of scores between Rachel and Chloe underneath. Posters, cd’s and pictures littered the heavily stained coffee table which had a film of white powder on top.

 _That’s kinda scary, Chloe was always willing to try anything but I hope not to that extent_. A lumpy army cot sat tucked in the corner underneath some graffiti with the words Chloe was here and Rachel was here. Max inspected the writing while debating for a moment, before grabbing a marker and writing _Max was here_. Setting the marker back down on the shelf, the edge of yet another note book caught her eye. Her eyes started roaming the pages; it was dated the month she disappeared!

Reading up on the events in the months prior to her disappearance in what could only be Chloe’s handwriting, _“Another two hundred bucks in the bank! Boo_ ya _! Rachel and I are gonna make Santa Monica bow._ ” From what she gathered Chloe seemed to be raising money to skip town with Rachel after she graduated, doing some odd jobs for a guy named Frank. Max had a feeling they weren’t exactly legit, given how Chloe would drop off these ‘packages’ in Portland a few times a week but came back with a decent amount of cash. The second to last entry stood out, ' _I_ _don’t know why, but Rachel’s been acting hella weird lately. Ever since Sera passed she’s just been out of it which I completely understand, I’ve been there too. It just seems like I hardly see her anymore and when I do we either fight or bang. Sometimes both. We need to figure out what’s going on between us, but I’m trying not to think about it too much. Been keeping occupied fixing up my truck for the move, need to fix the serpentine belt but I’ve got to sneak into douchebags lair aka my garage to steal some tools. Wish me luck.'_ The last page and entry was shortest one yet, dated the day before the fight with David.

_Everybody lies, no exceptions. Why did I think she was any different?_

“What does that mean?” Max said out loud, scrolling back a few pages for an explanation she could have missed. David’s garage was the last place she wrote about, that must be how she found his surveillance equipment! Maybe she found more than just cameras.

Taking the journal with her, she started to leave the shack when a loud rumbling shook a few empty bottles on the window sill. The freight cargo train was making its way through town. She couldn’t pass up the chance and snapped a somewhat blurry photo, the train whipping up a gust of wind that blew her backwards slightly. Giving the photo a quick shake she critiqued it, not half bad. The train continued to roll past her, carrying carts of lumber and goods before slowing down to a stop.

Max walked closer to an open rail cart thinking back to when Chloe wanted to be a hobo when they were kids. Even getting in trouble on career day for bringing a bindle to class and convincing everyone else join her on the open road. The parents didn’t seem to appreciate their kids who wanted to be doctors and teachers all of a sudden beg to be hobos. _Whenever Chloe and I wanted to run away we’d make sure to tell her mom first. Joyce would pack us both a lunch box,_ spider man _was mine and Chloe’s Xena the Warrior Princess. We’d make it to the back yard, hang out for an hour in the playhouse but always came back when we smelled cookies. Even then Chloe was determined to get out of Arcadia Bay, come hell or high water._

Max continued walking alongside the now stopped train, _bet this goes north but I wonder how far_? Feeling adventurous for some reason she grabbed the rusty latch and hauled herself inside. Inside were wooden crates of various sizes that looked like they had been moved around quite a bit. In the corner old empty bags of McDonalds littered the floor and graffiti covered the walls. She could make out some faded names and writings. “I’m not the first guest on this train.”

"I see humans but no humanity….Everybody is somebody. But nobody wants to be themselves. Poetic.” Another quote was underneath in bold black lettering spelling out, “Everybody lies, no exceptions.”

“What the fuck?” Did Chloe write that? Any further investigation was cut short when the train gave an abrupt jerk, sending Max backwards over a crate as the train started to slowly regain speed.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod. Shit!” Max stumbled over to the open door, looking at the moving ground apprehensively.

Max wouldn’t really have called it a leap of faith but more an I need to get off this fucking train jump. As luck would have it, a grassy field is softer than it looks but not by much. Sure she tore open the knee of her favorite pair of pants AND got mud all over her jacket but at least she didn’t die. But she couldn’t dwell on her outfit for long; she had to make her way back to the Price house.

 

* * *

 

 

Max soon realized an hour walk downhill is a hell of a lot more enjoyable than uphill, her legs were beginning to hurt from all this physical activity. She just got her license in June but decided against getting a car until she graduated, she was already beginning to regret that decision. Breathing a sigh of relief at the sight of the partially painted Price household, but more because there weren’t any cars in the driveway yet.

Entering through the side door of the garage, it looked a far cry from what it used to. Gone were the old posters of bands like Journey, Pearl Jam and Pink Floyd. Now the walls were covered with antler mounts and stickers on the refrigerator that read ‘Don’t Tread on Me’ and ‘I Miss Reagan.’ This garage used to smell like coffee, mint and deodorant. Now it smells like oil, Bologna, and patriarchy.

Ew.

“This must be David’s ‘lair’.” Her eyes drifted over to a gun case where William had previously hung a punching bag for him and Chloe to practice after a couple fights in school. More like Chloe smacking the shit out of the bullies. She never could walk away from someone being picked on. Jacked up and surrounded by a number of tools and used grease rags sat an old rust bucket F150 truck from before the dinosaurs.

“Hell of a project.” Max observed. Taking a peek, the exterior was actually an improvement compared to inside. Stickers littered the inside doors, an Elvis bobble head perched on the dashboard. It was the dated pirate flag covering the ripped cushions that caused Max to connect the dots. _This must be Chloe’s truck, well that eliminates my driving out of Arcadia Bay theory._

Making her way over to the large work bench and cabinets with a laptop on the desk, Max started to snoop around a bit. Family counseling pamphlets littered the desk with highlighted passages on almost every page. A few mementos from his military service hung on the walls, but what caught her eye was the picture of Chloe and Joyce. Looking closer she doesn’t think Chloe or Joyce were aware of this picture being taken but she had to admit it was a beautiful shot, Joyce was in the middle of laughing and Chloe had that shit eating grin on her face with a blue streak in her hair. They looked happy. On the back of the frame were just two words in a messy script, ‘My family.’ Max didn’t know what to make of this, so far she only heard bad things of David yet here he is fixing up Chloe’s truck and taking notes out of a parenting, marriage and relationship pamphlet. He seems to really care about them.

Her thoughts were cut short at the sound of the front door opening and slamming against the wall behind it, “Damn door.” A gruff voice sounded through the living room, startling Max and causing her to drop the frame on the cement floor.

“Who’s there?!” The voice shouted, footsteps stomping loudly before the door whipped open and revealing a man in a Blackwell security uniform who looked for a lack of better word pissed.

“What the hell are you doing in here?!” Ah _this is the step dick I’ve heard so much about. I mean David_.

Max stuttered, “I-I’m Max, I just-“

“Just snooping through my garage? Joyce didn’t give you permission to be in here. You were only supposed to look in Chloe’s room.”

Max backed up against the work bench, “I did! I found some clues that might be useful, I’ve been following up on them and they led me back here.”

“In my garage?” He sounded unconvinced.

“It was the last place Chloe talked about in her journal.” His eyes narrowed in distrust, “What journal?”

“It was under the bed in a lock box.” David took another step towards her, “What do you mean you found a lockbox? I ripped that god damn room apart and there was no box under that bed!”

Max quickly took out the journal, holding it up for David to see. He blinked for a second before recognizing the little doodles over the cover. His face went blank and almost seemed to be at a loss for words before suddenly walking over to a closet and taking out two metal chairs. Quickly unfolding them and sitting in one before gesturing for Max to sit also. Max hesitated before taking a seat, an eye on the exit just in case. David looked downright intimidating right now, it was almost a minute before he finally spoke, “Did you learn anything?”

“About the past three years, how she and Rachel met. What they’ve been through since, how they planned on running away together-“

David let out a humorless laugh, “I bet they were. Thick as thieves those two, always getting in trouble for drinking, drugs, and partying. Bailed Chloe out of jail more times than I’d ever admit to Joyce and Rachel always came by soon after the coast was clear. Dragging her down a dark path and Chloe was all too willing to follow.”

Max began, “Well I talked to Rachel earlier-“

“Oh I’m sure she told you the whole story, did she? Daughter of the DA is the biggest liar I’ve ever met in my life. Figures.” David spat.

Max was confused, “What do you mean? Rachel told me where to find the junkyard they used to hang out in.”

“Yeah but she never told you about what happened before Chloe disappeared right? That never came up in the conversation.” _He has a point._

“No it didn’t, seemed like Chloe wrote pretty often so I wanted to see her perspective before I asked Rachel any deep questions.” She admitted.

David’s fist clenched tightly, “That girl has done nothing but drag Chloe down from the second they met. I saw what kind of road she was headed down and I did my best to keep her from that.”

“So you thought invading her privacy and a good slap would do the trick?” _Probably shouldn’t have said that._

David shot her a look that could freeze you to the bone but then as quickly as it came his tough guy act seemed to disintegrate right in front of her. “There’s no excuse for how I reacted that night. It went too far; I know that and my family have paid for my mistake.”

Max cleared her throat, “Joyce told me about the fight and the cameras. Um, it sounds like Chloe must have found them when she stopped to grab the tools for the truck. But it still doesn’t add up, yeah she would have been pissed but the Chloe I know wouldn’t have left over that. Something else must have happened.”

David let out a long breath, grabbing a set of keys from his pocket to unlock a cabinet with about twenty files inside. Skimming through for a moment he pulled one out and handed it to Max but when he didn’t let go she looked up, “I didn’t expect find this. I only wanted to keep everyone safe.” She hesitated before opening the manila folder labeled RA, Max eyes widened at the multiple photo’s inside of Rachel in various activities around town but the few that stood out the most were of her with a man.

_Kissing._

“Arcadia Bay’s local scum bag Frank Bowers, from what I could gather Rachel had been seeing him for at least two months before Chloe found out. Could only imagine her reaction. She must’ve found the file along with my security cameras. Used to have a few more pictures but I think she took some with her. My guess is she confronted Rachel.”

Max’s head was spinning, “Why did you have a file on Rachel in the first place?”

Crossing his arms he explained, “Blackwell had three overdoses and one date rape attempt last year. There’s some serious dope making its way into this town and I was looking deeper into who was dealing to these kids with hopes of tracking down the supplier. Bowers has a criminal record for dealing so he was a person of interest. I wasn’t a fan of her but I never thought I’d discover my stepdaughter’s girlfriend was sleeping around with Bowers of all people.”

“Why didn’t you tell her?” David raised his brow with a look that spoke _really_?

“Fair point.” From what she could tell it doesn’t sound like Chloe would have either believed David or if by chance she did would have taken it well.

Max dreaded the thought but had to ask, “Do you think he has anything to do with her disappearance? Maybe he wanted Rachel all to himself?”

David thought for a moment but shook his head, “Bower’s has a record and isn’t the kind of guy who would hesitate to go to the next level if you fucked him over. But they’ve known each other for years, and I’m pretty sure she’s done work for him in the past. It just doesn’t seem like his MO, and there’s no evidence to support it. To be honest though, I’m not quite sure of what anyone’s capable of anymore.”

On the table behind him was a manual for the truck and receipt for parts. She gestured over his shoulder, “That’s some project you’ve got. Fixing it up for her?”

That earned a chuckle from David as he took off his Blackwell hat to toss on the counter, “When she comes home it’ll run better than it ever has. New muffler, serpentine belt, water pump, alternator. You name it, I’ve fixed it. Think I’m actually starting to like this bucket of bolts.”

 _Must have cost him a small fortune_ , “Are you fixing the interior?” He shook his head, he didn’t need to explain why. “Chloe fixed the truck all by herself when she was sixteen. Didn’t think she could get it running, but she proved me wrong. She’s one hell of a gear head.”

David looked at the truck a small smile forming on his face when Max asked, “Why didn’t she take it with her? I would’ve.”

“Police found it in the Junkyard a couple days after Joyce reported her missing, there was a receipt in the glove compartment from a local mechanic who quoted her three grand for what she didn’t have the tools to fix. Truck was on its last leg, wouldn’t have gone another week without those repairs.”

“Joyce says you’ve been following the investigation.”

David shot up from his seat and walked around the room in frustration. “What investigation? Those assholes at the station haven’t done jack shit to find her! Only one who’s helped me so far is Officer Berry and even he’s lost interest. If I know one thing’s for certain, it’s that Chloe’s not in Oregon. A buddy of mine was able to track her phone, the last place it pinged was in Montana at a bar called the Angry Goat. I went up there soon after but didn’t turn up anything.”

“Maybe I could go take a look? See if a bus runs up there or something.” David opened his mouth to tell her absolutely not, that finding Chloe was his job. The words died on his tongue when he saw the broken picture frame of his family, before everything had gone to hell and realized he needed all the help they could get.

“That might be a good idea. Here,” he fished out a set of keys from his pocket, “Take my car. Joyce and I can carpool for a few days.”

Max stuttered, “O-oh wait no, you don’t-“ David pushed them into her hand, “Just take it. Don’t pick up any hitchhikers or drive over 65.”

She fidgets a bit before finally speaking, “Um, okay. I mean thanks. But first I’m going to go talk to Rachel, listen to her side of the story.”

His jaw tensed, “That girl wouldn’t know the truth if it sat on her, trust me on that. But you should know one more thing Max. I didn’t want to worry Joyce any more than she already was but one of my guns is missing, Smith & Wesson revolver. Chloe thinks I didn’t notice when she’s taken it before but she’s always put it back. Don’t know why she’d need it but I have a feeling she thought the protection wouldn’t hurt.”

Max didn’t really know what to say to that, her breath catches and hands the files back to him silently and making her way out, “Max, please just do me one favor. Don’t tell Joyce about the gun, she’s already gone through so much this year. There’s no need to put that possibility in her head too.”

Max nodded in agreement, leaving the house with her chest even heavier with worry but she shoved it away as best she could. But the nagging thoughts persisted. Chloe would never do something like that.

_Right?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What are your opinions of LIS 2? I feel like it's a bit slow so far but i love the music and i'm confident it wll be amazing.


End file.
